Untitled
by Laiqalasse
Summary: just a bit of pre-slash SiriusRemus fluff


Disclaimer: They're not mine and good ol' Professor Tolkien... wait. wrong fandom. sorry. still, they're not mine.

Timeline: MWPP

Author's Notes: To follow

Something pulls me out of a rather sound sleep and I lie still for a few seconds, trying to figure out why I'm awake. The only sounds in the room are the birds singing in the darkness of early morning and James' soft snoring. It is a few moments more before I realize that I am not alone in my bed. There is a soft warmth against my back and I roll over slowly, careful not to wake my bedmate. I'm now face-to-face with a sleeping werewolf. The pale light from a half moon leaks through the window to dimly illuminate the planes of his face. I drink in the sight of him. He is beautiful, no doubt, but it is a marred beauty. His is too thin, his cheekbones prominent on his too-pale face. There are dark circles around his eyes which have nothing to do with the eyeliner he's so fond of wearing. With a feather-soft touch I brush my fingertips around his eyes, wishing I could sweep away these shadows.

Remus murmurs in his sleep and leans into my hand. He looks so young, far younger than his sixteen years and my heart swells. I love him, undoubtedly, but am I in love with him? I think so, but I'm not sure. I love him as much as I love James, but in a different way. James is my partner in crime, my best friend. We egg each other on shamelessly, we're loud and rowdy together. But Remus... Remus keeps me grounded. When James and I get too wild and out of control it's Remus who brings me back down again. Every time James and I sneak back into the common room laughing hysterically about some prank or the other, Remus is there waiting curled up on on of the ultra-comfy sofas.

After receiving a disapproving frown from Remus James invariably slinks upstairs to the dormitory while I collapse in a heap next to Remus. He never asks what we've been up to, but I always tell him anyway. He usually laughs despite himself. Eventually the talk turns away from pranks and jokes to more personal matters. Remus knows all my secrets, though I don't delude myself into thinking that I know all of his. I do know his biggest secret, though. I savor those moments with Remus. His quietness helps to calm me.

We first started sleeping together (in the literal sense) shortly after school began this year. Something happened to Remus this summer which traumatized him greatly, though he won't tell me what. I woke up Wednesday night of our second week to find him standing by my bed, shaking. "I didn't mean to wake you." I could barely hear his whisper even in the dead quiet of the room.

"Don't worry about it, Moony. You didn't wake me up." I'd hoped that the use of his nickname would help soothe him, but it seemed to have the opposite effect. "What's wrong?"

"I..." He hesitated and I got the feeling that he was about to tell me about this summer. "I had a nightmare." His eyes flickered down as if he was ashamed of himself for not saying what he really wanted to. There were silver streaks on his cheeks and it took me a few moments to realize that he was crying. In four years of knowing Remus I'd never once seen him cry. Not after a full moon, not in second year when his mother died. I was absolutely dumbfounded and for almost a full minute I could not think of anything to say or do. Finally I lifted up the covers in silent invitation and he immediately climbed in. My instinct was to wrap Remus securely in my arms and whisper to him that everything would be okay, but my doubts and insecurities wouldn't let me. What would it mean if I slept with Remus in my arms. It's just not something boys do.

So Remus laid there for the better part of an hour trembling and crying silently. It broke my heart and finally I swallowed my pride, or whatever it was holding me back, and scooted up behind him and held him. I'd always been aware that Remus was think, but until then I'd not realized just how skinny he was. Even through his t-shirt I could feel each and every one of his ribs, and my elbow rested on his protruding hipbone. In that moment a fierce protectiveness was born in me.

My fingers drift down from Remus' face to skate across his chest and I note with satisfaction that his ribs are far less prominent. He needs someone to look after him and I'm happy to do it. I wrap my arms around Remus' waist and pull him closer to me. After my initial hesitance that first night I found it incredibly comforting and comfortable to hold Remus while we slept. Now it is an every night occurance for him to slip into my bed and though we always start out on our own sides, we inevitably end up tangled together in the morning. James and Peter say nothing, but every so often I catch James staring thoughtfully at us. It doesn't bother me, and i don't think Remus has even noticed.

A wisp of honey-brown hair tickles my nose and I use my free hand to tuck it back away behind Remus' ear. My fingers linger, buried in his thick hair. Remus sighs and snuggles closer, pressing his face firmly against my chest. "'Lo, Sear." His voice is soft and sleepy and it makes me smile.

"Morning, Rem. Did I wake you up?"

"Yeah...what time is it?" Remus reaches his arms over his head and stretches his body out before setting against me once more, his head tucked under my chin and his arms snaking around me.

I glance at the bed-side clock, squinting to make out the numerals on the glowing face. "'Bout twenty after three."

"Bastard. Waking me up at such an ungodly hour. Quit thinking so loud."

I chuckle quietly. No one ever said Remus Lupin is a morning person. "Hey, at least it's Saturday and you can sleep in."

"Mmmm, true." He nuzzles into my neck and his warm hands slide up under my shirt to rest on the skin of my back. "'M cold."

I wrap my arms more securely around Remus and pull him as close as possible, then hook my leg over both of his. "Better?"

"Yeah." A moment later and Remus is asleep again.

I am suddenly very aware of how close our bodies are pressed together, and I cannot deny my physical reaction to Remus' proximity. I am sixteen after all. I forcibly turn my thoughts away from how good Remus feels in my arms and instead think of how perfectly he fits into my life. My last, fuzzy thought before I fall back into sleep is that it seems I'm in love with Remus after all.

Fin-

Author's Notes: um... no notes, really, this time.


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